Sanguine
by CoraxOnyx
Summary: G1 TF/World of Darkness-Tracks and Raoul try to be Good Samariatans after an unusual hit and run. Cassie is trying to disappear. What is an alien robot supposed to do when confronted by one of the undead?
1. Running

Sanguine

Disclaimer: Transformers characters are property of Hasbro/Takara, The World of Darkness setting is property of White Wolf Publishing. This work is fanfiction and is not intended for profit. This story is a cross-over between the Transformers and the World of Darkness. It contains some strong language, violence and the mention of social problems in the real world. If any of these things make you uncomfortable, please don't read.

"Run."

And she ran, boots clattering on the packed earth. They gave her a head start, eager for the chase, but not wishing it to be over too soon. The filthy Pack wanted her to provide them with sport equal to her defiance. She could not fight. She would not die. So she ran.

She was almost to the curve in the jogging trail when the Pack broke after her, remarkable restraint considering how badly they wanted her dead. She knew she would not lose them in the open, so she ran off of the path and through the darkness under the trees. With luck, she'd find a fence to put between them. None appeared right away, and she could hear the sounds of pursuit echoing loudly in the quiet, empty park. Ahead, the trees cleared out and the park ended in a dormant street of shops. She needed to get out of the neighborhoods. It was too dark and quiet here. If they caught her, she might have time to scream, but it was unlikely anyone would ever hear in time.

Two trashcans sat on the curb. She lashed out to flip them with a rattling crash. Unlikely to slow anyone for more than a second, but every second got her further away. And the noise might annoy someone enough to call the police.

No traffic here, so she ran across the street before turning right. This wasn't her neighborhood, but she knew the basic layout of the city well enough. Keep moving north and west and eventually she'd find the rail line and the more heavily traveled streets near Yankee Stadium.

Voices called behind her, street level and now higher. The more agile ones had taken to the flat roofs of the bodegas and squat apartment buildings. She spared a glance behind. The three closest were flagging, running short of breath. She grinned, if she could evade the meat puppets at street level, she might be able to get to ground somewhere and the rooftop watchers would lose her. She poured on a little extra burst of speed, feeling her blood hum as it burned to fire her flight.

"Mark her!"

"Don't lose her!"

"Grab those bikes, quick."

_Bikes? What bikes?_ Her silent question was answered by the clank and sticky whir of bicycles being ridden hard on asphalt. Running footsteps faded behind as she turned down another street, but the bikes were coming up fast. She reached for more speed and felt the blood surge in response. She could outrun them for a while, but when they did finally catch up she'd be depleted and exhausted. She needed an escape.

Brighter lights ahead and the noise of traffic. Maybe she could make it across 161st Street and use the distraction and movement of the cars to cover her escape.

She felt the rough slap of a grasping hand on her back. She shook it off. Was it one of the bike riders? She glanced over her shoulder. No, it was that bastard Anton, leering at her as he reached out again. She couldn't let him slow her down. The intersection was a hundred yards away. She reached again; blood for speed was the bargain. She widened the gap between them, running full tilt down the center of the street.

As she lurched out into the flow of traffic at the intersection, she was illuminated by the brilliant headlights of the Corvette. Unable to react, she collided and slid up the brightly decorated sloping hood of the dark blue car. She looked into the horror-stricken eyes of the pretty boy in the passenger's seat for an instant before she smashed into the windshield and bounced away. Landing on the asphalt with a bone shaking crunch, she rolled to a stop in a heap by the curb. Closing her eyes against the pain and shock; she heard in quick succession the screech of brakes, the slam of a car door and a strange mechanical noise. She faded into insensibility with a faint smile, imagining the Pack's frustration at the loss of their prey.

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Raoul was kneeling next to the girl's still body. The boy held her wrist between his fingers and thumb, feeling for a pulse. The large blue robot stood, looking down intently at the humans as he absently rubbed the place on his abdominal armor the girl had hit in his car form. There were some minor scratches in the paint of the brilliant red flame-design, and the windshield glass was cracked a few inches above the hood. It was cosmetic damage that would have ordinarily irritated him, but he barely noticed it.

"Well?" he asked the boy, trying to hide his concern in impatience.

"Tracks, man," Raoul began gently, "she doesn't have a pulse that I can feel. And she's not breathing. I think she's…"

A wailing siren tore through the faint noise of the traffic and the murmuring voices of the small crowd of late night onlookers behind the Autobot. The flashing, screaming ambulance bustled briskly through the sparse traffic and stopped, turning off the siren, but leaving the lights to flash and dance over the stark scene. Two husky paramedics one tan, the other dark, jumped out of the vehicle. The tan one slid a long, flat board out of the back while the other knelt next to the girl's body and reached for her wrist.

"You the first responder?" the man asked Raoul as his partner laid the board on the ground next to the girl.

"Uh, no, I was, I mean we're the ones who, uh, hit her," the boy said, indicating the towering blue figure.

The paramedic looked up at the robot. "You're an Autobot, right?" he asked in a businesslike tone as his dark fingers rested lightly on the girl's pale wrist. "What's your name?"

"Yes, I'm Tracks," the Autobot replied. New Yorkers were never surprised by anything.

"Ok, Tracks, I'm Marty. If we can get your help here we can get this young lady to the hospital sooner," the man said briskly. "Tony, I want to board her before we defib, OK?"

The man's partner, obviously Tony, nodded and began to straighten out the girl's sprawled limbs, tucking her legs together and her arms against her sides.

Marty spoke again, "Tracks, can you move her smoothly and quickly onto the board? Make sure to move with me to keep her head and back straight."

"I certainly can do that," Tracks said as he knelt and reached down over the humans' heads. He gently lifted the girl under her shoulders and hips as the paramedics cradled her head and legs. "One, two, three," he called and they lifted her onto the back board. She was so light in his hands. By Primus, these humans were easy to break. Why had she run out into traffic like that? It was as if she appeared from nowhere, but he didn't have time to think about that right now.

"Good job," the paramedic said, sliding a bulky bag from his shoulder and unzipping the top. His partner, Tony, was strapping the girl down to the board, starting at her feet. She lay pale and motionless. Her skin looked even paler compared to her crop of short red hair and grungy dark clothing. "You're going to want to get your hand out of there, Tracks," Marty said as he held up two smooth paddles attached with curling wires to the device at his side. "I don't know what this defibrillator would do to you."

Tracks took back his hand, but stayed kneeling next to the paramedics. Raoul stood and moved over to lean against his friend. "I don't want to get in the way," he said, shrugging.

"Clear!" Marty called loudly. He applied the paddles to the girl's chest. There was a high electric whine and she jerked in a sudden spasm. The paramedics watched tensely for a moment, and then visibly relaxed as the girl's chest began to rise and fall gently.

"She's breathing." He turned to the boy and the robot. "We're in luck, but she's very shocky. She's too cold, must be bleeding inside somewhere. We're going to radio ahead to the hospital. We'll have the police meet us there as well. Can I trust you to follow us?"

"Yes," Tracks said in a flood of relief. He hadn't killed the girl, but he would still need to report the accident to the Autobot base. "I'll radio my command on the way there." He stepped back from the paramedics and transformed back into his sleek automobile form. He swung a door open for Raoul and the boy climbed into the passenger's seat.

They both watched intently as the paramedics loaded the girl onto a gurney and slid it smoothly into the ambulance. Tony climbed inside the back of the vehicle with the patient while the Marty closed and secured the doors. He then walked briskly around to the front of the boxy vehicle. He opened the door to get in and stumbled backwards as the vehicle shuddered and the door clouted him in the chest. The ambulance rocked violently, swaying on its heavy suspension.

Tracks had just swung his door open again for Raoul to get out when the back doors of the ambulance flew open. The girl stood, framed in the bright clinical light of the interior. The remains of the sturdy backboard hung in splintered fragments from her arms and back. She clutched a bulky red bundle to her chest as she jumped down. She looked quickly up and down the street and then ran off, dodging through the slow moving cars before vanishing behind a street cleaner.

"Dios mio, what was that?" breathed Raoul, scrambling out of the vehicle and running to the stricken paramedic who was just clambering to his feet.

Tracks transformed and looked in the direction the girl had gone. A few of the people from the crowd of onlookers were moving rapidly that way as well.

Raoul emerged from the back of the ambulance where he was helping the other paramedic to help Tony to his feet. The hefty paramedic was wide-eyed and almost as pale as the girl had been. He ran his hand nervously through his hair and sat down heavily on the back bumper of the ambulance. Tracks stepped closer to hear the humans' conversation.

"Never seen anyone so high," Tony was saying.

"Are you sure?" the other paramedic asked, pulling his walky-talky out of its hip holster.

"Damn sure. That girl is going to come down hard. She's a danger to herself and anyone she's around right now," Tony smoothed down his rumpled hair. "Look at what she did," he pointed to the interior of the ambulance.

White packages of bandages and pastel colored forms littered the floor along with the broken straps and splinters of the back board. Cabinet doors and drawers hung open, the mute evidence of a hasty, violent search. The red marked door of the empty narcotics cabinet hung twisted from one hinge near the front of the compact bay. Tracks noted that a small inset refrigerator at floor level had also been emptied. The yellow and black symbol on the door looked similar, but not exactly the same, to those which decorated some labs and power plants the Autobots had visited and protected in the past.

"You say this girl is dangerous. Why? Isn't she hurt?" Tracks asked. Even Decepticons knew enough not to keep fighting while injured. It was one of the only reliable ways of ending a fight. Hurt them enough and they'd give up or run.

"She's high, Tracks, on drugs," Raoul explained. "She doesn't feel the pain and she's not thinking right. That's probably why she ran out in front of you."

Ah, chemical mind and emotion control, there was just no accounting for the things humans did. "So what will she do now?" he asked.

"No one can say for sure. She might find a place to get out of sight or she might get in another accident. She's likely to be really volatile right now and that's dangerous to other people. Eventually the high is going to wear off and then she's going to go into shock. She needs medical attention. I'm going to put out an APB to have the police bring her in." Marty said, raising the radio.

"Wait!" Raoul exclaimed. "I bet she grabbed those things and ran because she though you'd turn her in to the cops for using. I've lived on the streets and I know what it's like. Let me and Tracks look for her. He's good at finding people and he's strong enough to bring her in for help without hurting her."

Tracks looked skeptically down at his friend, but he had to admit that he did feel responsible for the girl even if she did run out into traffic. It was very late, so there wouldn't be many other people on the streets to confuse the search. If they went now, they might find her before sunrise.

"We'll find her," Tracks said confidently, stepping back from the humans and transforming into his sleek Corvette alt. mode. "C'mon Raoul!"

Raoul pelted over to the car and jumped into the passenger's seat. Tracks slammed the door and wheeled around, hurtling down the empty street before popping out his wings and taking to the air. The flying car circled to gain altitude as the two friends searched the streets for the running girl.

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She awoke to the searing pain of the electrical charge attempting to restart her long silent heart. Merde, that hurt! Right, remember to move the chest up and down. Someone is watching.

"She's breathing. We're in luck, but she's very shocky. She's too cold, must be bleeding inside somewhere. We're going to radio ahead to the hospital. We'll have the police meet us there as well. Can I trust you to follow us?" a New York voice, probably a paramedic from the borough.

She risked peering out from between her lashes. A dark figure, close, she could smell the astringent scent of disinfectant and beneath that the warm, living smell of his skin. She felt the hunger gnaw at her, but she forced it down. Another figure, slender and farther away; this one leaning up against something large and blurry blue, was it the boy from the car? That would make the blue blur the car. A voice came from that direction.

"Yes. I'll radio my command on the way there," that was no boy. It was a strange voice with a familiar East Coast accent, but still somehow mechanical. She hadn't much experience of machines. A radio perhaps?

She shut her eyes tightly as the blue blur moved. The strange noise sounded again and then she heard the growling of a car engine. She felt herself rocking and swaying as the paramedic came close to her head and lifted the board underneath her. There was a rattling movement and a sliding metallic noise. Then the street sounds vanished with a muffled clunk. She was inside a vehicle; an ambulance. She could hear and smell a man, only one, so they were alone. Good.

She opened her eyes fully. He was big, but he was only human.

"Hey," she said softly. He whirled to look at her. She called on the blood once more and fixed him with her glare. He gasped and lurched backwards, rocking the vehicle in his haste to get away from her blazing eyes. She flexed her arms, snapping the backboard, and sat up. Then she ripped the straps from her torso and legs. The man cowered, watching her intently as she freed herself. She didn't have long. She couldn't let them take her to the hospital. The Pack would follow her there and she'd be trapped in the tall building while they isolated her and finished her off. She had to keep moving in the open.

The first requirement was blood. She didn't have time to feed from the paramedic without killing him. But maybe there was some whole blood here. She jumped from the gurney, shaking the vehicle and absently breaking off more of the straps from her chest and arms as she moved. There it was; an inset cooler with the yellow biohazard warning sticker. She opened the cooler. Ten units of cold blood would be enough to keep her going until she could feed. She dumped a red first aid bag and loaded the blood sacks inside. She was vaguely aware of the paramedic's cautious scrambling as he moved to stay away from her gaze. Ah, but she needed to give the poor things an excuse, didn't she? The contents of the narcotics supply went into the bag as well along with a rolled up body bag. Now, time to leave.

She threw open the doors and tensed to run. The boy was sitting in his car again facing the back of the ambulance, the other paramedic was nowhere in sight. There was a little crowd of stopped drivers and street people standing together behind the Corvette. One of the people in the crowd caught her gaze. Anton, that blonde bastard, grinned hungrily at her; time to make her move. She jumped out of the ambulance and danced off between the oncoming cars.

She had to get to a quiet place where she could take in the blood. Now that she was moving she realized that she had several broken ribs and she thought her right shoulder might be out of joint. If the pain continued, it would override her tight control over the hunger. She ran around a slow moving street sweeper onto the sidewalk. She scanned up and down the street again. There was a Metro station near the stadium to the west. If she could get there, she could hop a train to get away from the Pack.

She moved towards the lights, looking behind to locate her pursuers. Anton and three of his followers were making their way down the sidewalk towards her. She trotted along, staying close to the buildings instead of moving through the pedestrians. She could smell them well enough from here and knew that she was dangerously close to frenzy. Her pace was hampered by the pain in her arm and side, but she pushed on regardless.

She reached the elevated rail platform before they caught up with her. A few late night commuters and street people were at the station, but there was no train in sight. Anton emerged from the stairwell, flanked by three cronies and grinned again when he caught sight of her standing near the tracks.

"Found you!" he cried heartily. "I thought we had lost our chance to dance, Cassie, but it appears there is one more song to play," he smiled as he held out his hand to her.

Anton's meat puppets moved to be ready to intercept her if she ran up or down the platform. The humans, sensing a confrontation and not wishing to be drawn into it, retreated down the stairs in a shameful trickle. She really could not blame them, however. Whatever happened here went beyond anything human.

"I'm really not in the mood for dancing tonight," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. "And you are a clumsy partner."

"Perhaps," he said evenly, taking a step closer, "But I've been down for this dance for a very long time, Cassie. In fact, I would say that you _owe_ me this last dance."

She put the bag down, carefully, at her feet and straightened to fix him with the full force of her presence. "You _DARE_ to presume that I owe you anything. You betray me. You squander the gift I gave you. You force me to play your asinine game. I owe you nothing. If you want anything of me come and _TAKE_ it!"

He paused, not cowed (although the meat puppets were) but considering. "I agree to your terms," he said and launched himself at her.

She anticipated the rush and stepped aside as he lunged forward. As he passed, she jumped on his back and clung on with her strong left arm. He staggered, off balance, then regaining his equilibrium. Her injured right shoulder grated as she raised her hand to force his head aside, exposing his neck. She could feel the frenzy rising at the scent of his blood, so close to her hungry mouth.

Panicked, he whirled to throw his back against the concrete wall of the shelter to dislodge her. Her ribs and shoulder flared with pain as she was crushed, but she clung on, hissing and snapping at his neck. She felt the skin part as her fangs pressed down and his rich potent blood filled her mouth. She sucked and swallowed, drawing strength from her enemy.

He cried out, ordering the meat puppets to come. But they would not lay hands on her. Her show of defiance had done that much. He clawed at her, trying to drag her from his neck. She felt her mouth slip, her grip breaking as he flung her to the floor.

She licked her lips and crouched. He put his hand to the bleeding wound at the side of his neck. "You bitch!" he shouted, his own fangs lengthening. "I'll kill you!"

Lost to the blood frenzy she could only hiss in reply as she licked his blood from her lips. She bared her fangs and leaped for him again. Now he was the cooler combatant and he caught her with a hammer-like blow to the gut as she came at him. Her ribs cracked and slid agonizingly, but she ignored the pain, scrambling at his arm to grab him again. He seized her by the arm and thigh and threw her away. She rolled on the concrete and stopped abruptly against a warm, solid, metal pillar.

From above her head a clear voice called out, "Stop right there!"

Ignoring the voice, she scrambled to her feet again. Anton was staring dumbstruck over her head at something. If the fool was going to give her an opening, she would gladly take it. She leaped up again, but was halted in mid-jump as a dark metal hand caught her gently but firmly around the midsection.

"I've got her, sir," the voice said from behind her. "She is sick and does not know what she is doing. We are taking her for medical treatment."

She writhed in the inexorable steel grip, lashing out with fists and feet as she was held suspended above her enemy's head. He shook his head as if to clear it and pasted a worried expression on his face.

"Oh dear," he lied, "is that what is going on? My friends and I were waiting for the train when this crazy girl ran up the stairs and jumped me. I was fighting for my life. See, she bit me." He pointed to the bloody wound on his neck.

"That looks bad," said another voice below her. As she watched, a dark haired boy with a long ponytail examined the mark and then turned to face her. It was the pretty boy from the car. Why was he here? She could smell his living flesh. He wasn't Kindred. She fought the frenzy to regain control and her struggling slowed.

"I think you should come with us to the hospital, sir," said the voice from behind. "You can have your wound examined and give your report to the police."

Anton blanched. "Uh, well, you see, I'm not sure how you're getting to the hospital, and I'm here with my friends. I don't want to leave them behind," he gestured to the motionless meat puppets who had withdrawn to the safety of the stairwell behind Anton.

"I can summon an ambulance, if you wish," the voice said. As she forced herself to regain control she realized it was the same East Coast accent she had heard before. She twisted to try and see who or what was behind her, but the pain in her shoulder and side forced her to remain facing front.

"No, really, that's OK. We'll just head back home first and then go to the hospital later. Look, here's the train."

With a squealing of brakes and a sweep of bright light, the Metro train pulled into the station. She felt the platform rumbling faintly through the hand wrapped around her body. Below her, Anton and the three meat puppets walked quickly into an empty coach. The doors closed and the train pulled away, leaving the pretty boy standing alone.

"Scum," the boy spat. "If he was telling the truth, I'm Michael Jackson."

"They were fighting when we arrived," the other voice said reasonably.

"They probably jumped her, they look like the types," the boy said dismissively. "Anyway, four against one is unfair."

"That's true," the other voice mused. "Well, our young lady seems to have calmed down. Are you all right, miss?"

The platform swung beneath her boots as the metal hand turned and she looked up into the dark red face and bright blue glowing eyes of a giant metal man. Its body was the same blue color as the car that had hit her and there was a red flame design on its chest that looked familiar as well. An arched cowling over its head sported matching missile weapons that looked capable of doing a substantial amount of damage. It was a formidable looking machine, but it held her gently and spoke politely. Did it belong to the boy? She decided that if it was going to harm her, it would have already done so, and so an introduction was in order

"Cassie," she said.

"I beg your pardon," the metal man said in the now familiar cultured East Coast accent.

"M'name 's Cassie," she felt stupid, knew it was the aftermath of the frenzy and lack of blood. She wondered idly if the bag with the units of blood was still intact. Maybe the metal man stepped on it. "'d you see a bag?" she asked.

"A what?" it was very slow on the uptake.

"Bag, on the ground by the tracks. Is it still there? I need it," she was snappish, feeling the heat of the frenzy coiling idly under her tongue. She needed to feed soon. If the bag was gone, she would be forced to go for the boy. The thought of doing that made her uneasy, though. What would the metal man do if she hurt the human?

"This one?" the boy asked, holding up the red bag by the straps.

"Yes!" she cried in relief. It hadn't been stolen or destroyed. "Give it to me."

The boy responded automatically to the command in her tone, stepping briskly forward and holding up the bag. The metal man interposed his hand, snatching the bag away as she was reaching for it. Interfering machine.

"This is from the ambulance?" it asked.

"Yes," she wasn't going to lie.

"Then it should go back to the hospital, which is also where we are taking you, Cassie," it replied smugly.

"You can't do that," she wailed. Was nothing going to go right tonight? She _had_ to get out of New York while Anton was off licking his wounds. She didn't have time for metal men.

"You see, Tracks," the boy unexpectedly came to her defense. "People like us, we don't do real well doing things the "official" way. She doesn't want to go to the hospital and I would feel terrible if we took her and she ran away and got hurt worse. Isn't there something you can do?"

The machine considered the boy's request for a moment and then shrugged. "I'm not sure what I can do, Raoul, but let's find a more private place to talk about it."

"Bag," Cassie said abruptly, sensing that the trip to the hospital had been at least postponed.

The metal man, Tracks, handed her the bag. She unzipped the top and felt inside. There were the worthless vials of drugs, the body bag, and, _Remerciez Jésus_, the un-ruptured blood bags. She almost snatched one out and pressed it to her hungry mouth, but restrained herself. No sense in revealing too much. A woman was wise to maintain some mystery.

"I need to use the bathroom before we go anywhere," she said as sweetly as she could manage. The boy, Raoul, shot her a significant look. He suspected something. "I'll be quick. There's one right over there. You can watch the door."

"I don't know…" Raoul began doubtfully.

"I promise not to run away on you, but if you don't have your machine put me down we're all going to be very embarrassed in a few minutes," she wheedled, squirming significantly.

"Pfft,_ his_ machine," the metal man said as he lowered her gently to the platform. "If you're not out in five minutes, I'm sending him in after you," it warned with an admonishing shake of its huge finger.

Rolling her eyes at the obstinate machine, Cassie fled for the privacy of the grimy station women's room. Once inside, she crouched in the first stall and lifted a bag of cold blood to her mouth. As she greedily drank the reviving fluid she wondered if she could persuade her unlikely rescuers to help her get out of New York.

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Author's note: If there are any WoD fans reading this the characters are based on Vampire the Masquerade. Cassie is Cassandra Devereaux a 10th generation Brujah anarch. Anton is her 11th generation Childe, recently gone over to the Sabbat. This is not important to know to understand the story, but might be of interest to anyone keeping score. There is a second chapter in the works, but I wanted to get this part published before Halloween 2007.

I honestly don't know if ambulances keep whole blood on hand, but it worked for the story. I didn't want Cassie to eat poor Raoul (yet).

Please read, review and let me know if you'd like to see part two. It will involve a road trip and more undead action.


	2. Rails

Sanguine—Part 2

As the door swung shut behind Cassie, Raoul looked up at Tracks and shrugged. "That girl is strange, man."

"More than you know," the Autobot replied. "Look at this." He crouched slightly to lower the hand that had been holding the girl into Raoul's line of vision. Along the top surface of the dark index finger were several dents, each about the size of an apple. 

Raoul touched the dents lightly, "Did _she_ do that? Does it hurt?"

"She did indeed, while I was holding her and she was struggling. I don't think she knew she was doing it. I noticed it at the time, but they don't hurt very much. I expect her hands are in worse shape than mine," he straightened back up. "Her readings are all off as well."

"What do you mean by that?" Raoul asked.

"She looks all right for a human, if somewhat scruffy and bizarre, but her core body temperature is too low and her electrical pattern is wrong. Not to mention the fact that she got up, ran away and got into a fight within an hour of being clinically dead. And she refuses to seek medical care. I don't think your chemicals can account for all of these anomalies," Tracks mused.

"So what's your theory? I know you have one," Raoul teased.

"It's not unknown for the Decepticons to experiment with organics. She could be a cyborg," Tracks said.

"What like the Terminator? That's _loco_, man," the boy said, laughing.

"You spend most of your time with alien transforming mechs, and you think the idea of cyborgs is crazy?" Tracks asked incredulously. "Your species is already part of the way there, you know. Your medics are able to replace limbs with prosthetics and keep some of your systems online with mechanical support. Our science can do much more than that."

"But the Decepticons think we're worthless," said Raoul with a shiver.

"Exactly why they would be interested in "improving" you," Tracks said. "In case you haven't noticed, they're willing to try pretty much anything to gain an edge. Reformatting humans to act as their agents has the added complication of involving us in a difficult ethical situation."

"Yeah, you guys don't hurt humans," Raoul said.

"On Optimus Prime's direct orders, I expect that he could be persuaded to make an exception in a unique case, but it would require some substantial proof."

"Like one of the 'agents' live and in person?" Raoul asked.

"Exactly," Tracks said with an emphatic nod.

"So we need to keep her around," Raoul said. "That'll be interesting."

"We need to get her to the Ark, so that Ratchet and Perceptor can check her out. We also need to find out how much she knows about the Decepticons. If she's not the only one, we'll have to track down the others as well," Tracks said, ticking off the points on his fingers.

"Whoa, Tracks man," Raoul held up his hands to stop the Autobot. "Let's do the first thing before we start worrying about everything else."

"Agreed," Tracks said, but before he had time to say more, the late night quiet was shattered by frightened screams echoing up the stairwell from the street. Four young men brandishing pistols and short sharpened sticks came running up the stairs, but stopped abruptly at sight of the towering Autobot. 

Raoul, turning to look towards the commotion, was knocked off his feet by a man sized creature that hurtled up the stairs and tackled him. At first Tracks thought it was a large dog of some kind, but as the thing jumped back and crouched snarling by the weapon-toting youths, he realized that it was a human covered in matted hair and barely dressed in ragged scraps of clothing. 

Raoul was gasping to regain his breath. He scrambled backwards from his attacker until his back was pressed against Tracks' foot. The Autobot dropped into a crouch to shield his friend with his hands as he hesitated, uncertain about what to do next.

"We only want the girl. Tell us where the girl is and you can go," said one of the gun carriers, a slender black boy in a bright red jacket, stepping forward.

By Tracks' foot, Raoul muttered, "Bite me."

The boy laughed, a harsh barking sound, eerily echoed by the tattered man tensed at his side. "We could do that, sure. But I really don't have the time right now. _Where's the girl_?" the last was said in such a resonant, strange tone that Tracks was startled. Were human vocal cords capable of such harmonics? He had never heard anything like it before.

Raoul trembled and paled. He clamped his lips tightly shut and closed his eyes. To Tracks' inexperienced eye he looked almost as if he were going to be sick. What had brought this on? 

"_Tell me where the girl is!_" the dark boy said again in the strange, deep voice. 

Raoul wrapped his arms around his head and shook harder, rocking slightly, breath hissing through his clenched teeth. Tracks glared at the motley group, but he could not see any weapon or device that might be affecting Raoul. They stood, and crouched, behind their leader; weapons carefully pointed down and away. Without a direct threat from the humans; Tracks knew he had no justification to attack them.

"Man, you're stubborn. This is the last time I'm gonna ask nice," the boy said, taking a small step forward. "_WHERE IS SHE?_" he growled. 

Raoul started and froze rigid on the ground, his eyes staring blankly up at Tracks and the ceiling. He took a deep breath as if to speak. The dark boy in the red jacket smiled thinly and leaned forward. 

In the tense quiet, the scrape of the bathroom door's opening was very loud.

- - - - - 

Cassie opened the door to reveal a strange tableau. Five of the Pack; three meat puppets, the savage Gangrel they called Hunter and the sadistic Malkavian, Jase were grouped together at the top of the stairs. The blue metal man was crouched over the prone form of pretty Raoul twenty feet away by the train platform. Immediately, all heads turned to look at her. But she was already moving.

She dashed out of the bathroom doorway and bolted toward the rail line. None of them had her speed. She could get away if she got a head start. In a sweeping blue blur, the metal man interposed its arm, cutting off her escape route. She caromed off the hard surface and landed hard on her ass. She glared up into Tracks' red face.

"What?" she snarled, jumping to her feet.

"Help me," the machine said, indicating the prone form of the boy, "and I'll help you."

She knelt down and examined the boy. His eyes were glassy. His limbs were locked and straining. He muttered softly but she couldn't make out the words. She recognized the signs. One of the Pack, probably Jase, had tried to Dominate Raoul. The boy felt the vampire's attempt to control his mind and will, but he was resisting with all his might. He wasn't permanently damaged, but would need time to recover from the mental shock and time was the one thing they didn't have.

"I don't know what's wrong with him," Tracks said anxiously, bringing its arm back around as she stepped under its protecting body. There was a shout from the group by the stairwell and she heard the sound of pistols being cocked. The feral Gangrel snarled.

"Step away from the girl, robot man," Jase said imperiously. "Her time has come. She must pay for her crimes."

"Crimes?" the metal man asked in a wry tone, looking down at her with an oddly human expression of amusement on its handsome arrogant face.

"It's a long story," she said dismissively, and resigned herself to the proposed alliance. "I expect you'll want to hear it eventually?"

"Probably," it said. "Help him up and get ready to move, all right?"

"Whatever you say," she said, stooping to collect the boy in her arms. Raoul didn't weigh enough to bother her, but he made an awkward burden in his locked up state. She bundled him against her, feeling the warmth of his body as he shifted to grip her tightly in an unconscious embrace. Pity she was sated right now. This one would be a joy to feed from. He was young and strong and smelled deliciously of sweat and leather. She pushed the distracting thought from her mind as the metal man moved slightly above them. 

"Last chance, robot, back off or we'll start shooting," Jase shouted.

"No," Tracks said, arching its body up and over to put its back between them and the guns. There was a spatter of gunfire and the pinging sound of bullets bouncing off its metal hide. Cassie turned away and cradled the boy, but none of the bullets breached the machine's frame. When the guns clicked empty; Tracks produced a weapon and fired at the group on the stairs. Instead of a bullet or explosion, a splotch of inky darkness flew out and obscured the group in a cloud of midnight. Confused and angry shouting erupted from within the blackness. The metal man straightened, took one step away, and did something incredible.

Its body twisted and shifted. As it did, it made a strangely familiar mechanical noise. Limbs, chest and head melded and merged and it elongated and dropped. Before Cassie's astonished eyes the towering metal man had become a stylish vehicle. It _was_ the Corvette she had run into before. There was still a crack in the windshield from the impact. The door swung open and the metal man's cultured voice called to her, "Quick get in. That won't hold them for long."

She jumped, ducking her head over the boy in her arms to dive into the vehicle. As soon as they landed in a tangle on the seat the door slammed closed. The car slewed around, tires spinning on the greasy station concrete and bumped roughly out onto the elevated rail bed. Ahead, the long steel rails continued under the cover of the inbound line above. The car wallowed for an instant, and then balanced nimbly on the rails to drive away from the station.

- - - - - 

Tracks didn't have the best purchase on the smooth steel rails, and that hampered his speed. The railway was old for this planet, and constructed solidly, with tightly spaced concrete support pillars lining the sides and a sturdy roof, intended to bear the weight of the uptown line above. He felt like he was driving in a tunnel suspended in the air. They would have to go several miles to the next station before he would be able to get back down to the street. But they had left Cassie's pursuers behind.

The humans (if he should still call them that) at the station had made him very uneasy. He still didn't know what they had done to Raoul. Had that hairy one injured the boy when it knocked him down? Raoul didn't have any of the obvious signs Tracks recognized for human injury, but he was a warrior, not a medic. Perhaps the girl knew.

"Will Raoul be all right?" he asked.

Cassie had been closely examining his instrument panel. She located the flashing speech indicator on the dashboard and addressed it. 

"Yes, he should be fine. He's very strong," she said with an air of satisfaction. "Where are we going?"

"We are going to the next station. I can't stop on the rails. A train may come and there's not enough room for me to transform," Tracks explained.

She nodded at that. "That transformation, I've never seen a machine do anything like that before. Très incroyable." She returned to closely examining his interior, but was apparently taking great care not to move around too much.

Raoul, lying on the seat next to her, stirred and raised his head. He looked out at the pillars and the rails and his eyes grew wide. "Where are we?" he asked.

Track felt his Spark lift in unexpected gratitude. Raoul sounded normal and he was back to asking questions, a very positive sign. "We're getting away from that station," he said dismissively. "I didn't care for the company."

Raoul grinned and shifted to sit upright. He turned to Cassie. "Thanks for your help. I don't know what happened. I don't usually freeze like that when there's trouble."

"I'm sure you don't," the girl replied absently. "Tell me, Raoul, where did you get this Tracks machine? It is impressive."

Raoul stammered, "I uh, don't think you understand. Tracks is an Autobot. He's alive."

"Alive? How can that be?" the girl looked suspiciously at Raoul. "How can a machine be alive?"

That was a decidedly strange question coming from a girl they suspected might be a cyborg. Raoul shot a baffled look at Tracks's interior sensor array before answering.

"Cassie, Tracks is a living machine from a planet called Cybertron. He and his people have been on Earth and in the news for the past ten years. Haven't you ever heard of them?"

Now it was the girl's turn to look baffled. "I don't have much time for news," she said darkly and turned to look out of the window.

An awkward silence filled the car. Raoul was clearly put off by the girl's curt answer and Tracks was reluctant to reveal his suspicions to her until he had more maneuvering room. The silence held for a long moment before a blinding light filled the car's interior. There was a deafening "Blaart, Blaart!" and a rumbling roar as a square-fronted subway train came barreling up behind them. 

Tracks, startled, scanned behind. The grimy vehicle was a normal human machine, not a Decepticon as he had feared. But it was gaining speed. He could feel his tires beginning to slide on the slick rails as their soft composite heated and lost friction against the smooth metal. 

Cassie and Raoul had turned to look behind, but both were dazzled by the train's bright headlamp. Then the light was momentarily obscured and Tracks's rear end dipped and shook as something landed heavily on his trunk lid. His tires slipped and the following train tapped his bumper sharply.

"My PAINT," the Corvette groaned. "And something's on me."

Cassie scrambled for the window controls. Tracks picked up on her intention and lowered the window as she stuck her head out of the opening.

"It's Hunter," she shouted over the sound of the wind and the train. 

"Who?" Raoul hollered back.

"The feral thing from the station," she yelled. "Raoul, after I go, put up the window and stay in the middle. Don't open it again until we stop. Do you understand?"

"What?" Raoul shouted, bewildered.

But she didn't stop to listen. Putting her hands on the window frame, she levered herself out of the cabin and scrambled to the roof.

Tracks raised the window glass again. Raoul slid to the middle of the seat, crouching awkwardly between the deep bucket seats and craning his neck to see up through the back window.

"What's she doing?" he asked.

Tracks' external sensors had a better read on what was happening. The girl had risen to her feet on the sloping roof and swayed, crouching as she faced her opponent. He, or it, was clinging uncomfortably to Tracks's spoiler, as it hunched and peered up at the girl.

"There you are, Cassandra," shrieked a voice through the train's PA system. "I see you've finally run out of mortals to hide behind."

"I wasn't the one who brought the mortals into this," the girl shouted back. "But you don't care about the Masquerade, do you Jase?"

"Why should I hide from those who worship me?" the PA voice shrieked back with a mad cackle. Jase sounded like the boy from the train platform, the one with the red jacket and the strange voice. He must have hijacked the train when it stopped to pick up passengers. 

"You're an idiot," Cassie snarled. "We keep to our kind, lest the mortals destroy us. You Sabbat may not follow the traditions, but your elders don't run this city openly, yet. Don't you think there's a reason for this?"

"Elders!" the PA boomed. "Cowards, soft and bloated. It's time for new blood. New ideas. New power."

This line sounded familiar. Tracks speculated that no species was without its power-hungry madmen.

"You're insane," Cassie echoed Tracks's thoughts with her next words. "You cannot rule over the mortals. The time of kings and gods is over, Jase."

"No!" wailed the voice and now Tracks could discern the boy standing in the driver's compartment as he pushed the speed lever forward again. The train clipped his bumper painfully, but the girl only swayed lightly to compensate for the jolt. The creature on his trunk hugged the spoiler as its feet slipped, and managed to hang on. Tracks sped up, keeping just ahead of the train. He was going to run out of energon soon. Somehow they needed to get out from in front of this train.

"The hunt stops now, Jase," the girl yelled defiantly. "The time is up and you have failed. Call off your dog and seek your rest."

"No!" the boy wailed again. "Hunter, bring me our prey."

The hairy thing unfolded from around the spoiler and leaped at the girl. It tackled her and they both fell heavily across the roof and front windshield. Raoul gasped as the hairy man raised a clawed hand and struck the girl across the face, leaving red furrows across her cheek.

"I gotta help her," the boy shouted, lunging toward the drivers' side door.

"No!" Tracks snapped. "Stay put and stop shifting your weight. This is hard enough without you bouncing around, too." 

And indeed, the train smashed into the back of the Corvette again, sliding the wrestling combatants down onto the sloping hood and slamming the boy into the dashboard. Tracks pushed forward again. The next station flashed by in a brief burst of light but there was no way to stop.

"Sit back and hold on," Tracks commanded. 

On the hood, Cassie was pinned under Hunter's body. They were both draped, heads down over the flame colored design on the sloping metal. Any abrupt movement in the wrong direction would send either or both sliding down in front of the speeding car. Cassie struggled to turn away from the rails and bring her arms up in defense of her head and face. Hunter clawed and snarled, shredding the cloth of her shirt and raising oozing red slashes wherever he contacted her pale skin.

Raoul groaned, but remained still.

"She's gonna get killed," he muttered.

"We can't do anything about that right now," Tracks said coldly. "We'll all die if that train catches us."

"Can't you take off or shoot the train or something?" Raoul pleaded.

"I can't destroy the train. There are innocent people on board. And there's no wing room in here. It's like this until it goes back underground near the river. We're effectively grounded, Raoul," Tracks admitted with some resignation.

Raoul jumped as an elbow smashed loudly into the windshield glass, widening and crazing the cracks already there. Somehow the girl had worked her arms free to brace against the hood and was bucking her hips to throw the man off balance. She had partially dislodged him and he had twisted to the side to cling to the hood, slamming his elbow against the tough glass.

The feral man turned to look at the boy in the Corvette. His eyes gleamed green from underneath his matted hair and he grinned, revealing long, pointed canine teeth.

The boy gasped and stiffened, Tracks could hear him making a thin frightened noise as the color drained from his face. What was so frightening about the dirty human? Obviously he was dangerously agile and strong, but Raoul wasn't usually frightened by his fellow humans at all. Tracks wondered if the boy smelled something that frightened him. The organic creatures on this planet often reacted violently in response to a sense that the majority of Cybertronians barely noticed. He shunted precious power to his CPU to free up enough processing power to run a full sensor sweep of the man. 

Again he got anomalous readings. This man was too cold, too inert. Just like the girl; he read like an inanimate thing, not a living organic. But clearly he was moving. He raised a clawed hand to strike at the cracked and chipped windshield, grinning wider when Raoul flinched at his movement. Tracks didn't know if his windshield could stand up to much more punishment. 

The leering face vanished suddenly as Hunter was pulled away over the top of the car. Cassie had moved around to the trunk and was wedging the toes of her boots uncomfortably under Tracks's spoiler as she hauled her opponent away from the front of the car. His talon-like fingers scrambled on the slick glass of the windshield, gouging out more scratches and chips as he went.

With a mighty convulsion, Cassie dragged the man onto the trunk lid. She glared down at him and snarled. He hissed up at her as he writhed in her grip, but he seemed unable to break her hold.

"Jase!" she called to the boy in the train behind. "Take this BACK!"

Amazingly, she stood, lifted, and heaved; flinging the man like a flailing doll against the front of the train. Hunter's body smashed though the window of the driver's cab, showering the rails, the girl and Tracks's rear end with tiny chips of safety glass. The train dropped back briefly as Jase struggled to regain his feet and the controls. But it soon surged ahead again. The "tunnel" was filled with the shrieking whine of the overworked engine, but the maddened boy pushed it on as hard as it would go. 

Cassie dropped flat against Tracks's trunk lid and pounded her fist against the side of the car.

"Go! GO!" she shouted. "I'll hang on. Go as fast as you can."

Tracks felt her feet wedge under his spoiler again as he surged forward. The train dropped behind by inches, then feet. And by the time they shot into the dark mouth of the under-river tunnel it was almost a hundred feet behind and losing ground as the engine failed in a cloud of sparks and smoke.

**Author's Note:** Here's the second chapter. This story is turning out to be longer than I had anticipated, but I hope to have the next chapter up relatively soon. I got stuck here for a bit wanting totake some time and explain everything,but I felt that keeping the action going would serve better than a long talky break. Y'all let me know if I made the right call.


	3. Rats

+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The roar of Tracks's engine was loud in the low tunnel. After a few more minutes of driving they came to the first underground subway station. It was brightly lit, but deserted. Cassandra leaped from the back of the car to land lightly on the hard cement edge and leaned down to help the boy up and out of the low-slung car.

After pulling the boy up, the girl watched in fascination as the dented and scraped blue car unfolded into a tall blue robot. Tracks stepped up onto the platform as well, stooping slightly to avoid grazing his arched "hood" on the blackened ceiling.

"Truly incredible," she said in a soft admiring tone.

The Raoul leaned out from the platform and looked down the line. The tunnel remained empty.

"Looks like we're clear," Raoul said with a grin and a shake of his head.

"What now?" the metal man asked.

"Well, I don't _think_ they'll follow us on foot through the tunnel," Cassie replied. "So you're free to go. I'll find my own way out." She turned around to orient herself, located a maintenance access doorway and started walking toward it.

"Wait just a minute there, girl," Raoul said surprisingly loudly in the vaulted space.

She turned back and looked quizzically at the boy.

"What WAS that? And who are you? And how did you do all of that?" Raoul demanded stepping closer to her and pointing at the scrapes and scuffs all over Tracks's formerly pristine paint job and to her own scratched face which was visibly healing. "And what was all that talk about 'mortals'?"

She hissed lightly between her teeth. She owed them some kind of explanation, but she didn't have much time. "You heard that did you?"

"It was kind of hard to miss," Raoul said coldly.

"Would you believe it's a bad combination of politics and stupid games?" she asked. Maybe a non-answer would convince him to drop the issue.

"Not without a better explanation than that. That guy was a vampire, wasn't he? What are you, some kind of Buffy the Vampire Slayer?" Raoul asked with a twisted grin.

'_Damn'_ the boy--young man--was perceptive. "Who's Buffy the Vampire Slayer?" she asked. It was a hedge and a transparent one, but she was unwilling to outright lie to Raoul. She was a bad liar, one of her many faults and part of the reason she was on the run right now.

"Raoul, I highly doubt that creature was some kind of mythical monster," Tracks said patiently. "There's got to be a _rational_ explanation for what is going on here."

"Exactly," the girl said nodding enthusiastically. '_Good, let machine logic help to make her case.'_ "Where do you get your ideas, Raoul?" she laughed.

"I know what I saw," the boy insisted. "That guy had fangs as long as my thumb," he gestured with the digit. "There's no way he was a cyborg, Tracks," he explained to the Autobot.

The machine looked uncomfortable about something, strangely enough, but now Cassie was lost.

"What is a cyborg?" she asked.

"A cyborg is an organic creature melded with a robotic creature; half human, half machine," the machine man said.

She blinked. As if living death weren't difficult enough. Was that even possible? Well, she had long ago learned not to consider _anything_ impossible. "Who would do something like that to themselves?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

"They may not have chosen to do it themselves," Raoul said. "Sometimes people are just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

She looked at the boy. He had a shrewd mind. He was making an assumption, of course, but it was true that many vampires weren't Embraced willingly, especially in New York.

She tried another dodge, "You mean like running out into traffic?" she asked with an air of innocence. "I'm all right, you know. And it was an accident. You don't owe me anything."

Raoul stepped close and put his hand on her arm. "You don't have to be afraid. We'll protect you until the sun comes up."

She smiled at his presumption as her nostrils were filled with his delicious, heady scent again. The fight had depleted her and a belly full of warm, sweet blood would feel just right as she rested for the day. Her thirst urged her to accept his offer, on her terms, of course.

She leaned in and murmured, "I _am_ grateful for your help. But how do I know you can really keep me safe?" she leaned on his mind, just a bit, making him desire her in a new way. Foolish, arrogant Jase didn't understand how much easier this was. He was always trying to break when a little bending would serve so much better. Raoul's hand lingered on her arm and he looked into her eyes. She smiled and he smiled back, a flash of brilliant white against his dark skin.

"I'm sure I can find some way to convince you," Raoul replied huskily. His eyes dilated as she leaned in and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

"I'm sure you can," she whispered in his ear. "Shall we go?"

He shivered. "Sure," he breathed, stirring the short hairs on the back of her neck.

She smiled to herself. They'd find a convenient tunnel or alcove in some out of the way place down here to hide in for the day, and then tomorrow they'd be off. Maybe she'd make a permanent servant out of him. She didn't usually care for the work required to maintan an entranced mortal servant, but she needed to be sure of his loyalty for her own protection and he _was_ pretty. If she was careful, she could feed from him exclusively until she reached safe haven in Chicago or St. Louis.

She slipped her arm around his waist and was about to lead him off when her path was blocked by an irritatingly familiar dark blue metal leg.

"What _precisely_ do you think you are doing?" the metal man asked with an imperious look down its aristocratic nose.

She looked up into the red face of the machine, frowned slightly and turned to Raoul. "Raoul, have your machine wait for us. Doesn't it have an off switch or something?"

Raoul looked bewildered, but Tracks _scowled_ down at her.

"EXCUSE me," it sneered. "I have had _precisely_ enough from you. You have been nothing but a pain in my skidplate since you flung yourself in front of me tonight. And I'm too dented to be nice anymore."

It reached down quickly and snatched her up. She was so startled that she didn't even think to jump away until she was dangling from Tracks's dark hand for the second time that night.

The robot lifted her up until she was looking directly into its glowing blue eyes.

"Now I am taking you, and this idiot," it jerked its thumb at Raoul who was slowly shaking his head in confusion at the sudden turn of events, "back to our temporary base. And I am going to find out what you know about the Decepticons. If you tell me what I want to know, _then_ I will let you go. Understand?"

She looked up into the luminous eyes, irritated with herself that she hadn't realized that the machine had so much independence. She had assumed the boy was controlling it somehow. They both had told her otherwise, repeatedly, but she hadn't listened. And now she was trapped. She couldn't let the machine stop her from escaping New York or take her outside into the sunlight. Unable to run, her fury, always the weakness of her bloodline, pushed her to lash out and punish it for thwarting her. The machine was too strong to fight, but perhaps its sophisticated brain could fear.

She called on her blood, eyes flaming red as she flung undead terror from her mind to its. The blue optics paled for a moment and a shudder ran through the massive frame, but the machine maintained its steely grip on her.

She hissed as she struggled with the mind behind the shining blue eyes. The fear she could induce was the fear of blood, pain and mortality. This creature wasn't made mortal. It didn't bleed or fear death. But there was something vital there that flared bright against her darkness.

"You ARE alive," she said in a barely audible whisper.

"And you're DEAD," it…he snarled, holding her out at arms' length, horror staining his handsome features with dark disgust.

"Tracks!" Raoul called in alarm. The machine whirled, still gripping the girl firmly.

Their struggle was instantly forgotten as both gaped in horror at the boy. Raoul was surrounded, covered to the knees by the gray squirming bodies of huge rats. The rodents were leaping at his face and chest and the boy lashed out to bat them away with his hands as he backed toward the dark opening of the maintenance tunnel. In the dark doorway loomed a tall figure with a pale, skeletally thin face. The rats gave way as the pale creature stepped forward and grasped the boy around the neck and chest. Instantly, both boy and creature vanished. The rats scattered, bolting for the tunnel. A last plaintive wail echoed up from the darkness. "TRAAAACCCKKSSSS!"

"Oh, merde," Cassie muttered as she dropped from Tracks's slackening hand.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Tracks rushed to the tunnel entrance. He stooped down to peer into the dark doorway and called, "Raoul? Can you hear me? Raoul, where ARE you?"

His glowing blue optics granted him excellent night vision, but he spotted nothing beyond the few last straggling gray creatures hurrying away along the walls. The narrow tunnel led to a steep set of human-sized metal stairs that dropped into the darkness. His audios detected nothing beyond the scampering sounds of the rodents, the drip of water and the faint noises of the city above. How had the pale creature disappeared with the boy like that? There wasn't even a residual trace of heat to mark where they had been.

He called again, "RAOUL!"

Cassie ran in from behind him, ducking in under his elbow to scrabble on the dank tunnel floor. After a brief moment she stood, clutching a squirming gray creature in both hands. The little rat chattered and squealed, displaying an impressive range of high pitched tones, but the girl hung on to it tightly as she backed out of the tunnel.

Tracks shifted slightly to allow her to pass him, but he was at a complete loss to explain her actions.

"Ouch," she winced. He saw that the tiny creature had sunk its sharp yellow teeth into the skin of her finger. She maintained her grip and turned to hold the wriggling thing up for his inspection.

"The Nosferatu is its master. It will return to him," she explained. The creature gnawed the flesh of her finger and a reddish fluid began to seep out from the corners of its mouth. "If we follow it, it will lead us to Raoul. We will not be able to detect him as long as the vampire has him."

Tracks was startled. How had she known what to do? And how did she know that he was unable to locate Raoul with any of his sensors? This situation was so strange. Nothing that was happening here conformed to anything the Autobots knew about Earth. This girl and her secret world seemed to be part of a shadow Earth, a darker, more dangerous planet that had just absorbed his best friend. If he followed her lead, where would it take him?

"Tracks, I do not think the Nosferatu captured Raoul for no reason," Cassie said. "So I think they will keep him alive. But their homes are hidden deep underneath the city. I do not know exactly where they are, but this rat," she gestured with the creature and a spattering of blood dropped from between her fingers, "will go straight back to its nest once we let it go. We can follow it, if we move quickly."

Tracks looked down at himself. Never before had he even considered wishing to be altered in any way from the magnificent machine that he was, but as he contemplated the miniscule creature and the cramped tunnel before him, he had an astrosecond's longing for a smaller frame.

"I'm never going to fit down that tunnel, and we both know it," he said.

She grinned. "I didn't expect you to. I'll go down the tunnel and you can trace me. You found me easily enough on the train platform."

He turned, straightening. "That's not going to work down here, there's too much interference," he said.

The girl looked up at him and clenched her fists at her sides. "It isn't my fault they grabbed him." She said defiantly.

The Autobot was taken aback. "I don't believe that it was," he said thoughfully. "But you obviously know something about it. And there's still the unanswered question of who or what you are." He hadn't forgotten their recent altercation or his revelation about her, but Raoul was definitely a higher priority right now. "What will it do to him?"

She grimaced, and Tracks's Spark sank. "That bad, huh?"

"I don't think they'll kill him, at least not right away. That would be wasteful. And he might be of more value as a hostage. I could go after him alone, but…" she trailed off with a shrug. The girl sounded like she was trying to convince herself, and failing. "I just don't know how much use it will be. There's a good chance I could make thing worse for Raoul by going down there. I know I owe you my life, probably a few times over." She walked over to the doorway and leaned against it, peering into the darkness beyond.

Tracks was conflicted. The girl had been alternately hostile, sullen and deceptive since they had first encountered her. He didn't particularly like her, and he was definitely sure he couldn't trust her. But she seemed to feel a need to help. Was she waiting for him to make the decision and ask for her aid?

"Cassie," he said. "I helped you because I wanted to...you don't owe me anything."

But that wasn't true either. He had helped save her partly because she posed an intriguing mystery and partly because protecting organics is what Autobots "did". And also, he had to admit, largely because Raoul had asked it of him. And now she was his only key to recovering his friend. There was still so much he didn't know about what was going on. He needed her help, even if he didn't particularly want it.

"But I'd appreciate your assistance and I'm not letting you go alone," he said. "But there's no way I'll fit in that space. Do you know where that creature would have been going?"

She cocked her head, thinking. "Maybe. I know where they're rumored to have their home area, but it won't be an easy trip from here. Especially for you."

He sighed, mentally sacrificing his paint and panels as the cost of friendship. "Fine," he said shortly. Then he walked back to the edge of the platform and stepped down onto the rails again.

She ran over and wrenched the metal cage from one of the light fixtures on the wall with her free hand. With a few deft twists she fashioned it into a makeshift cage and dropped the squirming rat inside. Then she dumped the caged rat into the red bag slung across her back and meticulously licked the blood from her hands.

He beckoned impatiently and when she came over he extended a hand to lift her up to his shoulder. Again, his electrical sensors detected her abnormal energy levels and he suppressed a shudder of distaste. He knew that she was dead, in organic terms, but yet she still thought and talked and moved. Perhaps she had some kind of mutant Spark. He would have to find out about that.

Stepping carefully to avoid the third rail, he started off.

AN: Yes this story has been on hiatus for a LONG time, as have my others. I do have plans to come back to them and the seeds of a few more. I'm going to try borrowing the example of some of my writing idols and working shorter chapters so I can actually see progress. And I have to give thanks to my friend Hound here for the plot twist. I think it's going to serve the story really well. Thanks to my readers for sticking with me so far and I'll TRY not to wait so long before updating again. Luv ya all! --Corax


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